


Out Of The Depths

by helens78



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Buddy Breathing, Drowning, First Kiss, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-22
Updated: 2011-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-20 15:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The submarine's pulling Erik further and further underwater, and there's only time for one solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out Of The Depths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cesare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/gifts).



The water's cold, but not freezing. Charles doesn't have to thrash around looking for the man who went overboard--if overboard's the right term at all--since his telepathy will tell him exactly where the man is. Thank God Charles is a strong swimmer, because the man--Erik, his name is Erik Lehnsherr--is being dragged along behind that submarine as if he's on a towline.

Only Erik _is_ the towline. His gift is the towline, and the submarine's not going half as fast as it would be if Erik weren't hanging on to it.

Erik's thoughts are so full of rage and pain that Charles has to force them out of his mind for now; he can't afford to be lost to Erik's memories of Schmidt--Shaw--this man who's done so much harm to so many. Later; he'll sift through these memories later, when Erik isn't at grave risk of drowning.

Charles pushes himself through the water, catching up stroke by stroke. Erik's grip on the submarine is getting weaker as the submarine gets further away, but he isn't giving up. It's easy to admire that kind of determination, but Charles has no time for that, either. He's yards away from Erik, and then feet, and the submarine is diving and dragging Erik down with it.

Closer, closer--he kicks harder, puts in that last desperate burst of speed, and gets both arms around Erik's chest.

«You can't. You'll drown.»

He can feel Erik's chest under his arms, the rapid flutter of his heartbeat; he can sense the pressure in his lungs, the urgent need for oxygen. His air's already exhausted, but he isn't giving up.

«You have to let go.»

He's getting through. Erik's confusion is starting to have a place beside his singleminded need for revenge. Charles presses in, rides along the confusion and clutches Erik harder. Erik fights, but it's not because of Shaw now; his body needs to breathe, and he can't avoid struggling, not at this point.

«I know what this means to you, but you're going to die. Please.»

The last of Erik's breath bubbles out from his mouth and nose, and they're still going down instead of up, still watching the submarine dive. Erik's body jerks in Charles's arms.

«Erik!»

No time. There's no time. He can't afford to be subtle, can't afford finesse. Charles digs through Erik's mind, grabs for the closest thing he can find to calm and tranquility, and fucking _wrenches_ at it.

Erik goes still.

When Charles swings Erik around, Erik isn't fighting. But he's ready to swallow water, looking for air. This, Charles can deal with. He pinches Erik's nose shut and presses his mouth against Erik's, letting Erik have most of what's left in his own lungs.

Erik clutches at him, surges against him. The air they're sharing--down here, in the darkness, in the water, it's more than breath. It's life, and Erik wants to live.

Charles pulls away and starts kicking _up_ , and he drags Erik along with him. When they break the surface, they're both gasping, and Charles still has his arm around Erik's chest. Erik coughs out seawater and clings to Charles, breathing hard, bobbing in the water with him as Charles keeps talking.

«I know why you're here. I saw what you could do.»

«You're--my mind--you're in my head, _how_ \--»

«I'm like you. And you're not alone now. I'll help you.»

Sincerity has always been an easy thing for Charles to project; this time, he means what he's saying perhaps more than he ever has before. The anchor, the chain, the way Erik held onto a submarine weighing _thousands of tons_ \--and they're on the same side, working for the same purpose if not for the same reasons.

«Let me help you,» he projects, while Erik sucks in air and the two of them tread water. «Please.»

Erik's breath slows, and he pulls back, just far enough to look into Charles's eyes. He curls his fingers around the side of Charles's neck and pulls him closer, and Charles goes with it, willing, _wanting_. When Erik's mouth touches his again, Charles isn't sharing air with him. And for all that they're above the surface of the water--this, too, is sharing life.

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a thought from Cesare, and, of course, "Mountie On The Bounty".


End file.
